Ebony Feathers
by icykisses
Summary: Ash is assumed dead. The funeral and everything... it's all over with, but Misty can't seem to handle it. Could it be because he died for her or simply because.. he's the one haunting her?
1. Default Chapter

Ebony Feathers

By Christina

"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." 

- Albert Einstein

_Dear journal, _

_My name's Misty.  I'm fourteen and under much stress.  In fact, the only reason why I'm writing in this stupid thing is because my friend thinks it will do good for me and my "suppressed emotions".  I'm tried, but the thought about how I will never see my best friend again… It still depresses me no matter what I do.  _

_Oh my god.. I'm crying again.  I hate this.  I usually never cry, now it's the only way I can sleep at night.  _

_Crap.  I just broke another pencil..  I hate this stupid journal.  I want to..  I want to rip it.  _

Brock heard a rather large crash coming from Misty's room.

_Brock just came in.  He didn't even knock.  I think I hate him, too.  Ah, I shouldn't think like this..  It's not good for me, I know.  He saw me crying.  I hate that too.  He wasn't at all mad at all about the lamp I broke…  Aw shit, that's my lamp.  Now I have to clean it up..  again..  _

_My room's a mess.  I broke anything needed to be broken already.  Brock had to save what he could before I totaled everything.  I was just too mad.  I think I still may be upset._

_When Brock came in, he saw what I wrote.  I would have stopped him if I wasn't too busy crying.  He told me to explain why I'm mad as well as what I feel in this dumb journal.  I screamed at him and he left.  I'm tired of screaming…_

_Okay, so you want to know why I'm mad?  I might tear this up later, but if I could just write this, maybe I'll feel better.  Or.. that's what they promised.._

:Flashback: 

"Whatever you see or hear, stay here."

"No!  Don't even think about it!"

"I have to, Misty!  It's the only way!"

"But it can't be…  You can't do this, Ash, you're too young!"

"Don't tell me what I can't do!"

"Please let me go instead!"

"I can't!  I have to, I'm the only one allowed to!"

"Stop being so damn persistent!  You're gonna get killed!!"

"It's better than everyone else dying!"

"No!  Stop!" 

"It's too late, Misty…"  

"So, you've decided now, have you?  Then, it is settled."  Said the deep, majestic voice that bellowed from the clouds from above.   The bright flash consumed him whole.  The earth rocked and shuttered with the sudden explosion.  Everyone screamed, except for Ash.  It happened so quickly and ended just as quickly.  

Misty felt her heart snap in two as a simple shred of his jacket fell across her shoulder, not daring to look up from the squealing Togepi in her arms.  Something warm and wet splattered across the side of her face.  Blood.  And it wasn't hers.

:End Flashback:

"All because he wanted to save the world… again…"  She mumbled, feeling her heart wrench.  "Well, it was either me or him…but…"

Misty jumped as her pencil jar suddenly tipped over.  The many pencils splattered out onto the floor near her feet, some broken from the fall.  She cursed quietly under her breath and leaned over to pick them up.  In the process, a tiny black feather invaded her view and fluttered in the air then landed directly on the back of her pencil-filled hand.  She shook it off, but before it landed to the floor, it swift-turned in the air and landed on her hand again.  Angrily, she grumbled at it and shook it away again and removed her arm, setting the pencils on back into the jar she had quickly turned over.

She closed the black and white splattered journal with a sigh.  

'It's so hot..'  she thought, twirling the butterscotch candy around her tongue, 'I need some water or something…' 

After hiding the journal underneath her pillow, she skipped to Brock's kitchen.  She fetched a tall glass from a squeaky cabinet and filled it half-way with water.  She turned the faucet as well as her heel as she headed back to her room with the glass in hand. 

With another sigh, she sat down on her bed and switched her almost-beaten radio from CD to radio-mode and the light beat of "where is the love" filled the room.

The pillows felt so good…  Especially when you haven't had any sleep for a long time.  

She closed her eyes, feeling the soft sunlight that intruded through the open window lightly warm her feet.  It wasn't long before she fell asleep.

Misty woke suddenly, a small bead of sweat trickled down her chin.  It was a nightmare.. that's all.  The room looked incredibly dark; the sun must've gone down already.  Everything seemed a bit blurry and she rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust her vision.  'How long was I asleep?'  she thought.

Just when she began to realize that the music playing as she fell asleep was strangely missing, she felt a light, tickly feeling on her left knee.  She jerked it upwards in shock to see a rather large black feather spring through the air and settle on her other knee.  She sat up and brushed it off.

Suddenly, the door began to creak as it was slowly pushed open.  Misty gasped at the sound and felt her pulse react to the fear that had suddenly caught her throat.  The door stopped opening about an inch or two.  Misty shakily got off her bed.  The walk to the creepy door seemed everlasting as her suspicion stretched whatever fear possessed her.  As she reached it, her hand made its way to the doorknob, but that's when she froze, as if forgetting what to do next.  

The door jerked open another inch, causing her to scream, and a tiny black feather wafted into her room, uninvited, and landed on her nose.  She blew it off and closed the door, humored. 

But when she turned around, there was Ash, sitting on her bed, his back to her.  He had the large black feather in one hand.

"A-Ash?  Ash?!" 

He didn't move, she noticed, not an inch.  So, she tried again.

"Ash, I thought you were dead!"

At the instant she began to jog to the bed, the room stretch itself and she felt as if she was running in place.  Eventually, she was moving, and that was when he spoke.

"Stop."

He slowly turned around, revealing his pale, torn face with a purplish blood that dribbled down the side of his face.  His eyes were red and glossy as well as filled with tears.  His hair was tinted grey from what looked like dust.  Misty tried to scream, but no sound left her mouth in the moment of panic.

"I'm not dead."  He said slowly, standing up from the bed, "Everyone just thinks that I am…"  

Misty gulped.  "Well… h-have you looked in a mirror recently?"  She motioned to the mirror in the far corner of her room.  He looked a bit surprised and turned around to look in the mirror.  "What's wrong?"  He asked.

Misty gasped when he turned around to face her again.  "Oh my god…"  Ash looked like Ash.

Suddenly, he was in front of her, gripping her shoulders harshly.  "You have to find me Misty!  Whatever it takes, you have to find me!  No matter what!  Find me!!"  Hundreds of sienna colored vines abruptly shot forth from her floor and rapidly twisted around his body, snaking around his neck and shoulders and arms.  His body shook with struggle but the deadly vines continued to wreath around his legs.  With an assuring smile, he timidly traced the large black feather down her cheek before the hellish vines swallowed him up entirely into the ground in an instant second.  "Find me!!!"

For the second time, her eyes opened, slowly but surely.  She shuddered at the cold in the room.  Brock must have left on the air conditioning too high before he went to bed…  Suddenly, she noticed that her left hand wasn't as unoccupied as it usually was.  She froze, unable to scream.  Something was in her hand and she couldn't see it.  No, something wasn't in it, someone was holding it.  

Instantly, she jerked her hand away and the feeling disappeared just as quickly.  She whimpered when she opened it, though.  There was a tiny black feather.

[A/N:]  Well… I guess I can thank a certain someone for talking me into watching the movie Dragonfly…

Ah, and I don't own anything.  The characters belong to their rightful masters.


	2. chapter 2

Chapter 2

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." 

- Albert Einstein

Misty shuddered once again as she rubbed the skin of her shoulders feeling the tingles of the cold air around her envelope her body.  She reached for her now closed curtains and pulled them open, wincing at the bright morning sunlight that poured across her face.  She felt blindly along the top of the window for the ledge, but noticed that her window was already closed.  Confused, yet almost blind with the large amount of sun against her eyelids, she shut the curtains and blinked at the darker room, her vision blurring for a second.

She made her way across the room and opened the door that lead to the short hallway into the Kitchen of Brock.  There, he was cooking breakfast and the almighty roar of children's voices rang in her ears, "Misty's up!  Misty's up!  Yay!"  

This caught the attention of the young pokemon breeder and he glanced at her.  "Good morning Misty." 

"Morning, Brock…"  She said quietly, trying to pry two children off of her legs.  "Excuse me."

The children squealed as their older brother set two more plates of food down on the rather large table where more children ate, some playing with their food as well as throwing it and decorating the table with it.  Misty squeezed past Brock and headed for the fridge looking for the container of orange juice.  She pulled the jug out, expecting it to be light, but instead she ended up having to heave it out of the icebox.  Brock chuckled.

"They don't really like orange juice…" 

She laughed lightly and struggled to get it to the counter.  'I'm losing my muscle.'  She thought, twisting off the cap.  "Brock, help, please." 

He chuckled and picked up the container as if it was as light as a feather and poured a good amount into a glass.  "I figured after all that sleep, you wouldn't be so tired."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, excuse me for intruding, but I had to check on your window to see if it was open before I turned the air conditioning on.  You were sleeping."  He shook his head exasperatedly with wide eyes, "And talking, for that matter."

He handed her the glass just in time to have a glob of jelly smack his cheek.  A wave of giggles tremored the air.  He sighed and wiped it off and Misty folded a hand over her face to avoid such future disasters.

"Talking?  What was I saying?"  She asked.

"Not much… I couldn't make much of it out, actually."

"Well… exactly how much could you make out?"

Brock grinned and twisted the cap back onto the orange juice.  "Well, you said something about mirrors and zombies… and then all I heard was, "Oh Ash!  Oh, Ash…  yes, yes, yes, Ash!  Oh yes, harder, Ash, harder!" "  He said in a girly voice.  

Misty blushed scarlet and shoved him aside while grabbing her orange juice and headed to her room in 'stomp-mode'.  Brock laughed behind her and she couldn't help but chuckle to herself.  "Oh my.. god.."  She bit her lip to restrain the smile that had crept up on her.

She reached for her doorknob, but just before her hand came into contact with metal, the door slowly pulled itself open a few inches.  She froze, the glass in her hand about to slip from her grip.  Misty grabbed the door, avoiding the doorknob, and pushed it open a little further.  Suddenly, there was a crash coming from the kitchen.

She spun around to see Brock's back facing her, a mess of splattered eggs at his feet.  She gasped, "Brock, what happened?"

He looked over his shoulder, "Nothing…"  

She sighed and walked back into the kitchen, setting the cup of juice onto the table and began to help Brock clean up the eggs.  The children were done eating by now and ran out of the kitchen to play.  "Thanks."  Brock said.  "No problem."  She replied.

However, when Misty turned around for the entire roll of paper towels, she screamed.  Brock jumped up and joined her in gaping.

There, in the center of the large kitchen's mirror, was the word "Find" sloppily written in egg yolk.  Feeling the cold tingles roll down her spine, she balled her fists in fear, dropping the roll of paper towels to her feet.  

Misty hovered over the bathroom sink in deep thought.  She ran the water for no reason whatsoever.  It splattered against her arms and dripped back into the sink.  With a deep sigh, she tore away from the sink and shut off the water and pulled off her shirt, all the while remembering Ash.  

"But… he's dead."  

_'Ah, but you have no proof.'_  Nagged a small voice inside her head.

She stared into her reflection.  "He's been dead for nearly a year.  He's dead!"

_'How do you know?'_

"I was there!  I was at his funeral!"

_'Hey, was there a body?'_

Misty's heart froze.  "No."

_'Well?'_

"There wasn't because nobody could find all of the pieces!"

_'Nobody found any pieces at all.'_

"But…  If he was alive, why isn't he here?"

_'Maybe he's somehow trapped.'_

Misty's stare shifted to the floor.  Suddenly, she scowled.

"No.  He's dead."

_'You have no proof whatsoever.'_

"My face was soaked with proof."

She looked back to her reflection only to see the blood of her memories run down her face.  Little rivers of the bright red blood of Ash soaking her forehead and cheeks.  She screamed and once again turned the water on, full blast, vigorously scrubbing at her face.  "Stop it!"  

Though in the water, she saw no blood.  Blinking in surprise, she looked back into the mirror.  Normality.

_'The pain of your heart was too much to bear.  You couldn't focus on the pain of your body.  You were too close to the site of destruction, how do you know it wasn't your own blood.'_

Suddenly, a loud knock on the bathroom door interrupted her thoughts.  "Misty?"

She sighed.

"Misty, you alright in there?"

"Um.."  She heard the doorknob rattle a bit and the door began to open.  She thrust herself against it in desperation, "Don't come in!  I'm shirtless, you idiot!"

"Uh…  okay, just wanted to make sure."  He said before leaving.

"What, that I was shirtless?"  She mumbled to herself.  

She faced the shower once again.  She should've been in there already.  Before… before…

Misty sighed and removed the rest of her clothes, turning on the water and waited a while until it became just the right temperature.  Nice and hot.

She wondered about the writing on the mirror.  And then about her dream.  Do they relate?  What if Ash was trying to contact her?  Wait a minute… Why would he try that after so long?  Why would he want her to find him?  What did that mean, anyway?

She gasped.  The water became too hot and had burned her fingers.  Absently, she stuck them into her mouth and switched the bathwater into shower mode.

"Whatever…"

The curtain pole screeched slightly as it's curtains were abruptly pulled open and the naked red-head grabbed a towel to wrap around her hair as well as her robe.  The floor felt a bit damp and slippery as she stepped out of the tub, grabbing hold of the towel rack in assurance not to slip and break her neck.  The air, despite it's thick humidity, became chillier than usual, however.  The water that dripped down the back of her neck felt as if they were ice cubes to Misty.  

"Wha…"  She breathed, looking around the bathroom.  It was as empty as ever, sans the usual- a toilet, a foggy mirror, sink, and a door in front of her.  

The light bulb above her began to flicker.  The sudden change in lighting appearance made her gasp.  It continued to flicker until the speed intensified, causing the light and darkness in the room blend evenly and cast a certain strange shadow on the wall.  It was on the door.  Misty stood frozen, but managed to step back into the cold tub.  

The light bulb abruptly burst into a million pieces, causing all the light in the room to shatter along with it.  Misty sighed and wiped the sweat/water off of her forehead.  She stumbled towards the door and hoped she could just slip into her room without being noticed.  

Suddenly, her heart froze as the door opened a few inches before her hand reached the doorknob before her.  Another string of cold sweat dripped down her cheek.  It suddenly warmed and she reached up to wipe it off, but only getting the orange-red, metallic- smelling liquid smeared across her fingers.  It was blood.  Horrified, an unintelligible whisper to her right caused her to immediately distract her attention to the mirror.  To her alarm, the condensation on the mirror traced itself into a messy translation to the word 'ME'  

The house shook with the slam of a bathroom door.


	3. chapter 3

Chapter 3

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." 

- Albert Einstein

            Misty panted in fear as she shut her door behind her.  Feeling the tension finally snap in two, she slowly sunk to her knees against the back of the door, hiding her face in her hands and shaking with both fear and sadness as the all-too-familiar tears streamed down her face.

Could this be for real?  

"How can I find you…  You're DEAD!!"

The coolness of her room struck her again, but nothing happened.  She scowled and locked her door.  She stood with a strange smile and strode across the room to her desk and sat down, looking into the total emptiness of her room.

"Okay…  I believe you.  Prove it."

She waited and… waited..  and she waited…  Her smile widened.  

"It's nothing."  She said quietly, "It's all been a stupid coincidence.  Yeah, I'll bet Jamie was playing around with the eggs… and it's just a coincidence with the whole bathroom mirror thing…  and the dream.  It's all a bunch of bull!"

She crossed her legs proudly in pride of her examination.  "I'm just a paranoid little girl."  She faced the mirror.  "That's why I'm talking to myself."

She laughed lightly and shook her head.  "There's no ghost…  I'm not… There's no ghost…"

Unsure of conclusion, she sat quietly in the cold chair, fiddling with the hem of her robe nervously, expecting something to jump out and tell her to 'find' them.

"This is stupid…"  She muttered and stood quickly.  

Misty began untying the sash of her robe while walking to the tall dresser when she froze.  

_'What if I'm wrong…?  What if he is in here.. watching me in my…um…' _ She frowned.

"If you've been watching me dress for an entire year now, I'll kill you if you aren't already dead!"

_(Dear Journal)_

_After that night (as well as the night before, I suppose…) the house was as silent as ever.  It's been that way for a while- about two weeks, I think.  I don't know if it was just a weird coincidence or if it really was Ash's ghost, but as long as it's over…  it really doesn't matter…_

_I don't know what to think now.  I'll just try to forget, I guess._

_I haven't broken anything in a while.  And Brock is still confused with the whole 'egg-thing'.  I never did tell him what happened- what I truly saw.  I haven't had a nightmare since.  I think I'm getting better.  Maybe this journal writing thing is helping.  _

_No..__ I think I was just losing my mind, is all._

_If anything does happen again, I hope it doesn't include Brock as well.  He's done enough and I'm grateful that he's letting me stay here.  Living with my sisters right now… it'd probably kill me.  Ha ha… Wow, I'm laughing.  _

Misty closed the journal with a soft smile and leaned back into the chair into the tunnel of cool air coming from the air vent above.  Her door leaned open a little.  Alerted, she looked to her left and there was Brock.

"Hey.  How you doing?"

Misty smiled, "Good.  Why?"

He arched an eyebrow, "Well, you haven't broken anything for a while, now."

She tried to act surprised and stood up, "Really?  How long has it been?"

"Uh… almost two weeks, I think."

"Well, you wanna start now?  We could try one of your arms or if you could spare-"

"No.  Nevermind…"  Brock sweatdropped.  "I was just wondering.. I haven't heard a crash or shatter from your room for a while."

"Well, I'm fine, Brock."  She said, sitting down on her bed.

"'Kay, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Misty smiled.  It's been so long since she just randomly smiled like that.  

_'I'm just in a good mood.'_  She giggled.

The moon was shining brightly tonight.  It cast senseless spells upon the city beneath its presence and the stars gathered around to nod in agreement.  Misty pulled the curtains open even wider to let the moonlight spill into the room, blending in with the bright table lamp inside.  She reached for the glass of water that she had poured earlier and brought it to her lips taking a big gulp.  

Suddenly, something solid in the water swept her nose and she coughed, spewing water at the window.  Something black and soaked lay at the brim of the cup.  Misty peeled it off.  It was another feather.

Something scurried up her backbone.  All sound in the room, from the chirping of crickets to the beat of her own heart stopped suddenly as her mind tried to process the black essence at the tip of her finger.

"No!"  She gasped.

The air suddenly felt… unusually cold.

Facing the floor, the moon's radiance grew brighter.  No… it was just getting darker…  Slowly, she turned around.  The lamp, once glowing brightly, began fading slowly… slowly…  

Misty felt her heart pace increase rapidly and wondered if it was even healthy.  The natural light behind her continued to brighten, slowly, with each quickly passing second, casting her shadow as it became darker, stretching across the room- the shadow of a scared little girl shaking in fright of the anticipated ghost of a long-lost friend.  _A ghost_.  Something dead, yet entwined mysteriously into the living world- not to mention into her _room.  _

Without further thought, she ran out of her bedroom.

_'Just when I thought it was over…'_  She thought with a tear.

She must have made it about half-way through the house and into the living room where she sat on the couch beneath the light of the ceiling fan.  It was almost an hour since the… incident… and no one had waken up, thank God.  

She for some reason felt safer in this part of the house.  It felt more livelier and lighter than her room.  If anything, it had a phone- for emergencies, of course- in case she needed the priest or something- nothing big… 

_'Okay, let's analyze the obvious.'_ She thought, _'Either there's a ghost in this house or I'm just crazy.  Chances are, since I'm the one who's having second thoughts on the chance of my needing mental care, I'm more likely to be haunted.  But by who?  Can it really be Ash?  But why would he do this to me; we're- we were best friends.'_

The television suddenly flicked on, interrupting her thoughts.  She looked around for the remote hurriedly to turn the volume down, but it was nowhere to be found.

"-at 10:52 this evening, a local at the Goldenrod Collage of Industry reported another sighting of the mysterious 'witch-woman' and followers lurking about the Goldenrod Caves.  Police indicate that this is the fourteenth sighting in less than a month, but have no records of trails, fingerprints, or tracks left behind as they seemed to disappear in the near woods.  Apparently, the unknown group repeats the same thing each night, returning to the cave.  Local police are looking in on the matter.  Back to you, Ker-"

Misty felt frozen to her seat.  Something was wrong, and she knew it.

Shorter chapter, but hey, what can I say, it has the best cliffy!

Thank you for the reviews everyone!  ^_^  They help more than you know!


	4. chapter 4

Chapter 4

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." 

- Albert Einstein

"He's alive."

The dream slowly began to fade as consciousness returned to Brock at the sound of Misty's meek voice.  He slowly opened his eyes, seeing a tall dark figure at the foot of his bed, the door open but an inch, staring him down.  He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, feeling a tinge of a small headache warning to approach, "Misty, what are you doing up?  Why are you in my room?"

"He's.. a-live."  She repeated.

Brock stared at the pale-faced little red-head retreating slowly to his door, opening it slightly more.  Her shirt was wet and she seemed to be sweating, and from the looks of the darkness beneath her eyes, sleep was a whole other option.  "What are you talking about?"

"Ash.  He's still alive."

"Misty-"

"No!"  She shouted, digging her nails into the wood, "I know he's still alive.  And he wants me to find him.  A-and I will!" 

She turned to leave, slamming Brock's door behind her.  It wasn't long until she felt a pair of hands whip her around. 

"Misty, get a hold of yourself!  Ash died.  A long time ago.  You need to deal with that."

"But I know!-"

"Listen, this is crazy!  Get some sleep.  Just forget about all this and you'll feel better tomorrow morning."

"Maybe I am crazy.  Maybe I am losing my mind.  But what if I'm not?  What if he's still alive and in serious need of my help?!"

Brock hesitated for a second, but sighed.  "Fine.  Do what you must, just don't get hurt."

"I'm going to Goldenrod."

Misty gently shut her door behind her, feeling, as usual, that she wasn't alone in the room.  She pulled open the squeaky closet door and began rummaging through much junk that she kept stored in there until she found it.

_'Finally…  I get to use this thing.'_  She thought, pulling out the bright blue duffel bag. 

She clicked off the closet light and softly shut the door.  Turning around, she caught a glimpse of her reflection and gasped rather loudly.  Realizing her mistake for a ghost, she sighed.

_'All this supernatural turmoil is making me so damn jumpy…' _  She thought with disapproval and frowned at her agreeing reflection.

She tossed the bag on her bed and thought of what to pack.  _'The usual… toothbrush, hairbrush, clothes… whatever needed.'_  She thought, already stuffing things into the bag.  

On second thought, she removed the second tank top and replaced it with a picture- old and a bit dusty- that had been sitting by her bed for a while now.  She smiled timidly and traced the silver frame with her index finger.  Looking around the room cautiously, she kissed the boy in the photo and stuffed it back into her bag, zipping it shut.  It was the only part of the frame that _wasn't_ dusty- his face.

Walking out the door, and lifting the not-so-heavy-because-she-was-'losing-her-muscle' duffel bag over her shoulder, she caught another glimpse of the mirror as she passed.  This time, though, it wasn't her reflection.  It was Ash.  And he was smiling. 

Instead of screaming…  she smiled back, this time.  And then, she left.

Misty felt the drowsiness of her recent lack of sleep consume her nearly entirely as the bus shook above the rocky terrain.  Another girl, a total stranger and whom looked like a foreigner, sat beside her nervously writing things down in a hand-sized notebook.  Misty, out of boredom, spied on the wording, but the letters were not of her language.  The strange girl caught this new attention and weakly smiled up at her.

"Hi."

"Hi."  Misty returned the greeting immediately and averted her eyes to the front of the bus, "Sorry."

"Don't be.  I know you can't read this, anyway…"

"How do you-"

"My name's Jahzara."  She held out a hand and Misty shook it.

"Misty."  She said.

"Hey Misty.  So, do you live in Goldenrod?"

Misty nervously brushed at her bangs.  She had a weird enough situation, did she really have to discuss it? 

"Um… no, I'm just... uh, visiting a friend, you might say."  She said unsurely.

"Oh.  Me too."  Jahzara said sullenly and continued to write the little symbols.

_'This girl is strange… long black hair, blue- nearly crystal- eyes, and such a deep, entrancing voice.  …And she writes backwards.'_

Misty noticed that after twenty minutes of still being on the bus, Jahzara continued to write, erase, and so on and sometimes it was the same symbols over and over.  "So…um.. what are you writing?"  Misty inquired, a few minutes later and totally bored.

The girl, taken from her trance in writing, looked up at this stranger, unamused.  "Huh?"

"Well, it isn't any of my business, but…  I'm just trying to make conversation.."  She chuckled nervously, "I'm bored out of my mind."

Her solid, white face softened and she smiled.  "Oh…  I sometimes completely forget about every one else around me.  Well,"  She looked down to her piece of work, "I don't think you'd understand… but.."

Misty inwardly sighed.  _'I should've just stuck to staring out the crumby window.'_

"..I-It's a spell.."

That took Misty out of her thoughts, "A spell?"

Jahzara nodded.  "Mm-hm.  For my friend.  He's a little… sick and needs psychic help."

"Well, wouldn't your average ibuprofen or Tylenol do the trick?"  Misty chuckled.

"It's.. not that kind of sick…  You see, he's…"  She fidgeted with the paper's edges, "soul-sick."

"Oh…"

"I've spent about a month trying to cure him, but he.."  She laughed, a nervous wave washing over her, "He just won't return to his body!"

The girl smiled, crumbled up the piece of paper with a sigh, tossed it to the bus floor, and began working on another spell. 

A sudden jerk of the bus snapped Misty into reality like a rubber band.  "Soul-sick…?"  She muttered.  "Jahzara…"

She looked up, but when she did, the seat next to her was mysteriously empty.  Her heart paced quickly, at the sight of another strange, unexplainable happening with information that only was allowed to her by a force stranger than unimaginable.

"Misty?"  Called a deep voice from the front of the bus.  "Aren't you getting off?"

Suddenly, Misty noticed that_ all_ the seats were empty and that Jahzara stood leaning against the drivers seat with nothing under 

her arms, on her back, or in her hands but that piece of paper.  

"So, you're telling me this, because…?"  

"I have to tell someone.  Or else I might go crazy."

Jahzara chuckled.  "Well, I think you're doing the right thing.  I'd do the same thing if my friend was haunting me."

The restaurant was nearly empty, it being so very early in the morning.  Misty and Jahzara sat at a booth at the far end of the establishment engulfed in their conversation.  Jahzara tapped the straw on the table, the wrapping peeling off and stuck the plastic contraption into the fizzy soda.  "Well, I know a few ways to bring people to life."  She announced.

"You do?  Really?!"

"Yeah…"  She said, smiling sheepishly, "I just never tried anything before."

"So…that's why you're writing these spells, right."  Misty asked, a little depressed.

"Exactly."

Misty yawned, slid her drink over to the other side of the table and laid her head on the table.  "I'm sooo tired."  She groaned.

"Did your ghost keep you up all night?"  Jahzara grinned.

"Ha ha."  Misty said sarcastically.

"So… tell me about some of your little.. 'supernatural happenings'.  About this ghost.  What's it like?"  Jahzara said, suddenly interested.

"You don't want to know."  Misty said, sitting up with her eyes still closed.

"Why else would I ask?"

Misty glared at her.  "It's so scary, you think I'd be making it up."

"Well, I'll make you a deal."

"What's that?"

"If you tell me about these strange things that have happened to you, I'll try my best awakening spell on your friend."

Misty shook her head in disbelief, "Yeah, but I've seen those movies where you witches, no offense,"

"None taken."  Jahzara said quickly, mentally noting that this isn't the first polite person to label her as a witch.  

"-raise the dead and they come to life as… zombies or something or vampires or evil or something where their soul is totally twisted…" 

Throughout the entire second part of Misty's sentence, Jahzara was giggling unstoppable.  "You are _not the first person to think that!  But, seriously, those are just movies…  And the real deal is this: do you want to live the rest of your life with ghost?  Because if you don't there are only two choices you get: to raise it, or destroy it."  She said seriously._

"Destroy it?"

"Well, "  She scoffed, "When I mean destroy, I mean to put to rest.  For the soul to go to Heaven or Hell or Purgatory or wherever instead of floating around Earth and scaring little kids."

Misty glared at her, leaning on her elbows.  "You really want to know what happened?"

Jahzara's eyes flashed with interest.  "Oh yes, I looooove ghost stories."  She grinned.  

Misty sat proudly against the booth seat with her arms crossed defiantly across her chest at the look of Jahzara's surprised face.

"Wow."  She said, "So, this friend of yours wants you to find him and… he told you to come _here_?"

"Well, actually the news reporter did-"

"Well yeah, I know."  Jahzara waved her words away, "That's just his way of telling you."  She rose a finger at Misty,  "He's not aloud to talk to you or let you see his actual spirit form."

"What do you mean?"  Misty was about to take a sip, when she noticed that there was nothing left but ice in her cup.

"That's just… how they work.  It's the rules of the dead- or at least the kind who aren't at peace."

"Yeah."  Misty nodded.

Jahzara smiled suspiciously, "You must be lucky."  With Misty's concerned look, she continued, "For him to choose you over all of his other friends and even his family."

Misty blushed, "Well… we are-were real close…"

"Oh."  Jahzara laughed lightly, "You only said he was your friend, you didn't say anything about a boyfriend.  Sorry, I should've kno-"

"He wasn't my boyfriend!"  Misty flushed, "We're just best friends.  In fact, I have no idea why he chose me."  Embarrassed, she looked away.

"No need to get embarrassed.  Oh, hey, do you know what the black feathers stand for?"

"What?  What do they stand for?"

"…I don't know, that's why I asked."

"Well, in that case, I have no clue whatsoever.  I never thought that they meant anything, anyways."

"They probably do.  You keep seeing them everywhere, ne?  And you said you had a dream about him?  That's so cool.  What color was his blood?"

Misty, slightly taken back by the question, looked at her as if she was a total mental case, "…Why?  Purple, I think."

A small fire of determination burned within Jahzara's glare.  "So, he's serious about this stuff.  He really wants you to find him.  And soon, too.  That's serious."  At Misty's confused and utterly surprised expression, Jahzara quickly added, "Oh, you know me, I study this sort of stuff all the time, you know?"

Misty laughed, "You really are into this, aren't you?"

"A witch to the very end!"

"So, Misty, what's it gonna be?"  Said this new friend, cracking her knuckles.

"Um..  What?"

"Think about it.  What would your friend prefer?  To be cast into eternity, or to live once again.  Here's a clue though, I wouldn't give him life if he killed himself, though.  He'd probably just die again the day later."

"Well…"  Misty thought for a while, taking long sips from her fresh drink, "I don't really think that Ash meant to die…  And I know that I didn't want him to die."

Suddenly, Jahzara gasped.  Her face paled.   Her jaw dropped and the crystal-ness within her pupils darkened into a deeper blue as her stare intensified, mixed with feelings of awe and surprise unimagined.

"You're… Ash's Misty?"

Aaaand, I think that's about as good as a cliffhanger as any.  ^_^  Bai!


	5. chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
  
  
Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."  
- Albert Einstein  
  
  
  
  
The copper key rattled against Room 11's lock as Misty's hand shook, recalling her earlier conversation with Jahzara. Did she really know Ash? Was she just trying to syke her out? Jahzara had no time to explain as four men and two women cloaked in black with bits of turquoise barged in exclaiming, "Klarieojiha! Klarieojiha! Mashot ba luchtovft! Mashot ba luchovft! Enneojiiba!" …Or something like that, and then she disappeared along with them saying, "I'll explain later! Bye!"  
  
Finally getting the key into it's rightful place, and turning the doorknob, she pushed the squeaky door open, feeling along the left side for a light switch. When there was none, she gave up and allowed the sun to drift into the room, glowing up the motel room in an instant. Feeling the fatigue of the long trip without sleep, she stumbled to the bed, throwing the door shut behind her and collapsed in exhaustion, savoring the soft feeling of the mattress and quickly falling asleep.  
  
  
  
When she awoke, she found herself lying in a bed of black feathers, the air chilled, the frigid atmosphere enveloped around her and she felt around for a blanket. And then it hit her. Black feathers. They were all around her.  
  
Her breath caught in her throat and she looked around the room, but it was useless, as there was no light.   
  
Wait.  
  
If there was no light, then how did she know that she was lying in black feathers? And why can she see her hand in front of her face? What…?   
  
The darkness around her subsided as the light-bulb above the center of the small motel room slowly dimmed into life, but only enough to see the traces of anything in the room. A small feather drifted down from the light source.  
  
"Ash?" She asked softly.  
  
She felt a hand on her back and shrieked, trying to swat away the feeling and backing up on the mattress, soon finding herself backed into the yellow stained wall. "A-Ash?" She asked a little louder.   
  
The light-bulb's dim illumination softly rose a tone in response, and with it, Misty felt a faint wave of warmth wash over her, quickly eliminating the coolness of the room and replacing it with a feeling of protection and love. It was a wonderful feeling, but enough to startle her altogether. And then once again the feeling embraced her, washing away the fear and replacing it with the fond tenderness that enfolded around her heart.   
  
Suddenly, she felt a soft pressure around her waist, and then her chest, and then her back… and, like a dream, a body materialized beneath her chin. And last of all, she felt someone's cheek against her own. It was the Ash-apparition… hugging her.   
  
Misty… slightly baffled, returned the hug.   
  
Finding that her arms didn't go through him, she pulled him closer and felt the tears emerge as she began to cry onto his shoulder.   
  
It was as real as it.. should be.  
  
His gloved hand traveled up to her neck and back down where he patted her back and whispered, "Mist… Mist, I gotta tell you somethin'…" Hearing Ash call her by her nickname, only brought Misty into more tears as she held onto him for dear life, her body shaking with the sobs and gasps.  
  
"Stop crying… ssshhhh… please? I really need to tell you this--"  
  
She tried to slow down the constant pounding of her heart, but the memories of Ash's Death-Day flooded back to her and caused her eyes to flood once more- tears streaming down her face, causing her face to redden with sadness. She cried to her heart's content, holding the boy she had missed for so long, the dead boy, in her arms and not daring to let go. He sighed.  
  
"Stop… Come on, Mist, you have to be strong now. We both do."  
  
"I-I can't… I can't let you go, a-ag-again!" She sobbed, holding on tighter.  
  
"Listen," He said quietly and slowly began to pry himself away from her, "Listen, Misty, you really need to hear this."  
  
Sniffling, she looked up at his face cautiously. "What?" She asked weakly, her voice trembling.  
  
He stared deeply into her ocean-blue eyes and cracked a hopeful, half-smile, but with a tired sigh, the smile faded.  
  
"Mist… What are you doing here?" He asked.  
  
She was confused by all thought. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Why are you here?" He repeated.  
  
"T-… To look for you." She said, almost whispering. "I don't understand…"  
  
Ash nodded, "I want you to look for me. But I want you to look in the right place as well!"  
  
"What do you mean? I thought you wanted me to go to Goldenrod!"  
  
"Erm… No I don't.." He sweatdropped, but grinned nervously, "You must've misunderstood!"  
  
"Ugh…" Misty groaned, feeling a headache gush into life. 'I should've figured Ash would have no sense of direction… Even in death!' "Okay, Ash…Why did the television come to life suddenly and mention the Goldenrod caves? To me, it sounded like your still-alive body was in the Goldenrod caves."  
  
"Oh, that's right." His voice was a little higher than usual, "I didn't mean to catch the news on that precise moment."  
  
"Ash…" She hugged her knees to her chest, separating herself from this apparition. "-you moron..."  
  
He sighed and placed a hand on her knee, "I said you're looking in the wrong place, I didn't say that you weren't in the right place."  
  
"Wh-at?" Misty asked in a wispy, exaggerated breath.  
  
There was a crack of thunder outside her window and the wind rustled through the trees, causing a wide commotion in the leaves. Ash's smile weakened and he reluctantly looked over to the window. Tiny, incomprehensible whispers invaded her room from outside, riding along the soft breezes. Ash faced her, now frowning miserably, and slowly pulled her into another hug whispering, "I gotta go now." Misty wrapped herself tightly around him, feeling the salty tinge of pain beneath her eyes, and then the warm streams of depressed sadness roll down her cheeks.  
  
"I miss you…" She whimpered.  
  
"Yeah… Me too."   
  
Suddenly, her arms dropped, and she realized that the body in her arms had faded into nothing. More tears soaked her cheeks, now dripping off her chin and some streamed down her neck. Her throat emitted the slightest of distressed growls and she grabbed the pillow and screamed into it, pouring out the emotion that surged from her shaky fingertips to her toes into the motionless, and now damp pillow.  
  
"What do you want me to do?!" She cried out, her fingernails tearing into the pillowcase.  
  
She angrily grabbed the lamp and threw it with all her strength, smashing it into the wall into hundreds of tiny ceramic pieces, then screamed into the pillow again until her sleepy strength gave out and she collapsed onto the cold, hard floor- the only thing that kept her face from breaking was the pillow that she used to cry helplessly into.  
  
"Ash…"  
  
  
  
  
  
Misty slowly opened her sore eyes, still red from crying, and realized that she had fallen asleep on the floor. She groaned, noticing that nothing had changed, even the black feathers had disappeared, as well as the broken lamp…  
She sat up and looked around. Where is that lamp?  
With some struggle, she wearily pulled herself up onto the bed and rested her throbbing head in the palm of her hands.  
  
"Uuunnngh…" She groaned, "I should've gone to bed earlier…"  
  
It was basically the crack of dawn and the first rays of today's sunshine leaked through the window, crawling across the floor into the bluish shadows. Misty breathed deeply and brushed away her bangs. 'I'll figure it out.' She thought confidently. 'I have to…'  
  
The pale rays of sunshine quickly began to tint the room's temperature with its heat. Misty sighed and took in a deep breath of today's fresh air. The soft mist of morning sprinkled her forearms and nose giving her goose-bumps. The sun settled deep within the blue mist of the mountains, tall in the sky. It was really early… The roads were empty and everything seemed as if it all was drained of its usual liveliness.   
  
Suddenly, a dark figure jumped from the hidden darkness from around the motel's corner and grabbed Misty's shoulders, spinning her around harshly. Misty gasped and squealed in horror at her attacker, and then realized who it was..  
  
"Jahzara??"  
  
"Misty! You've touched the barrier!"  
  
"What… barrier? Jahzara, what are you talking about? And what are you wearing?"  
  
Jahzara's eyes darkened a little and she frowned. She inhaled sharply, "It's about Ash."   
  
At this, Misty immediately sunk in the pit of curiosity. "Really? What is it?"  
  
"No," She scowled, "He's contacted you again, hasn't he?"  
  
"Wha…?" Misty then remembered… oh… "Uh.. yeah I think, but it might have been a dre-"  
  
"It wasn't!" Exclaimed the dark-haired girl in the black and turquoise cloak. She inhaled, breathing deeply, "This morning," She said seriously, "He came to me."  
  
"He what? What are you talking about?"  
  
"Listen." She said; it was obvious that she was deciding on how to put into words whatever she had been pondering on. "Okay, do you remember the time when we met and you asked what I was writing? I said that I was writing a spell for my friend, you remember?" Misty nodded, "Ash is that friend."  
  
Misty gasped, "So you're that group that that news reporter was talking about! About disappearing in the woods and stuff! And the whole cave-!"  
  
Jahzara clamped a hand over Misty's mouth, "No! But I know them… and… it's supposed to be sort of secret!" She looked around frantically, but, fortunately, no one was around to eavesdrop.   
  
"So what do you mean he came to you?" Misty asked impatiently.  
  
"…I'm… not sure if you're ready to… hear this…"  
  
Misty growled in frustration, "I'll tell you when I'm not ready!"  
  
"Okay, okay…" Jahzara gave in.   
  
  
  
  
  
Misty sighed wearily. The dirty, old bus rattled and shook as it somehow managed to climb a steep dirt path through a poor excuse for a forest in its timely condition. A sudden jerk to the right caused her forehead to come into a rather painful collision with the filmy window. "OW!" She groaned. Then, she noticed that the bus had stopped. Again.  
  
A passenger climbed onto the bus with a little difficulty, struggling to heave himself up the rather large steps and squeeze through the rather narrow isle. Spotting the empty seat near Misty, he sat down next to her and sighed, rubbing the raindrops out of his dark brown hair. "Hello." He greeted.  
  
Misty smiled faintly. "Hi." And turned her attention back to the crumby window.   
  
"Hey, how are you." He said cheerfully.   
  
"Fine." She muttered.  
  
"I'm Clay." He politely extended a hand, in which Misty reluctantly looked away from the uninteresting window and politely gripped.  
  
"Misty."  
  
She tried her best to smile, but the fact that the rain made her thoughts uneasy and that her dead friend kept contacting her to this day, it was kind of hard to do so. Clay saw her uneasy smile and his expression softened, "What's wrong?"  
  
Misty looked up to this 'Clay' stranger and her smile disappeared. She blinked and glanced away. "Nothing."  
  
He frowned as he turned his attention away. "Have you ever had déjà vu, Misty?"   
  
"Déjà vu? Sure, I guess. Why?"  
  
"I feel like I know you…" He chuckled, "Strange, huh?"  
  
She stared intently at this person. Somewhat tall… dark brown hair… tan… looks about.. sixteen or so, but..  
  
What if..  
  
"Nope." She said, shaking her head, "I don't think I remember you."  
  
"Maybe it's the hair… Y'know, I just dyed it a few days ago-"  
  
Before he could finish his sentence, she gasped. Her eyes widened. His heart jumped as he thought that maybe she remembered him from something, but as he looked closely, he noticed that she… wasn't looking at him, but at the window a few feet behind him.   
  
"It's a volcano!" She said, obviously in awe at this act of nature.   
  
He turned to look out the window at the large mountain miles away, spewing truckloads of lava. "Wow.." He said, a little un-amused as he snapped out of the déjà vu.  
  
There was a small rumble from above when the bus turned a corner around the mountainside and ended up traveling along a steep ledge.   
  
"What was that?" Misty asked, turning her attention from the volcano.  
  
As if in response, the rumbling grew louder, but faded. Clay glanced up to the roof of the bus and shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe it's the storm."  
  
Suddenly, a huge clash brought everyone on the bus screaming. The bus jerked from one side to the other harshly. A huge boulder tumbled off of a cliff from above and smacked into the right side of the bus, spinning it so that it faced the edge of the road where it dropped off. A few shouts in another language and many screams and horrified shrieks were heard as the bus toppled over the edge, letting a small pool of lava take it's place.  
  
  



	6. chapter 6

Sorry for the update-stalls.  I just keep getting grounded over and over, it seems.  I swear…

Sorry to announce, but I won't be drawing until I get a tablet to hook up to my computer because the scanner is dead.  If my luck improves, I might get one on Nov. 9 (take a wild guess why.  ^.~).

Chapter 6

"My.. head…"  Misty moaned, trying to sit up.  Suddenly, a strong pain shot through her right leg and she screeched and froze, trying not to edge on the pain.  Her vision blurred when she opened her eyes.  Something big and grey was nailing her leg to the ground from knee-down.  It was a dislocated bus seat.  Other various, yet minor bruises that covered her body hurt like hell.  She felt like a dead piece of meat and just fell back onto the dirty, toppled bus floor when her head hit something and she winced as she turned to look.  It was a stranger's bloody arm…  and it wasn't.. attached to anyone…  She screamed and shot straight up, for once, taking in the horror of the inside of bus 177.  

Everything was tossed everywhere- from luggage, to body parts.  The scent in the air made her stomach queasy- it was of rotting, bubbling corpses.  Bubbling?  Cooking… dead body parts??  She looked around and spotted a few places where lava gushed and squirted from the burned holes on the side of the bus to her left- also known as the front of the bus- where people lay unconscious and cooking.  She wanted to throw up.  Never had she seen such horror…  A thin stream of the hot liquid shot through the windshield and then, she began to panic.  The bus was melting and her leg was trapped.  

Misty grunted as she tried to pry her leg from out of under the unforgiving seat.  Her numb leg was blue from the crush and she had no feeling left in it whatsoever, so she had to pull with her arms and back.  As she struggled, more lava dripped into the bus.  The acidy substance in the air made her eyes burn and water and the stronger scent of decaying bodies made her choke back her oxygen.  Her muscles began to sore from the pulling, but she wouldn't give up.  The bus cried out and the steel began to scrape along the ground again.  For some reason, the bus was moving, crawling slowly along the ground.  It took her a while to realize that it was sliding down something.  She screamed when the seat in front of her clamped down on her leg further.  It wasn't painful, but just the sight of it was enough to gross her out to the point of screaming.  Was it the end?  Will she die now?  

A small grunt behind her caused her to jump.  "Oh my god, are you alive?" 

She looked over her shoulder and Clay was running over to her.  Despite how much pain she was in, she couldn't have been any happier to see someone to help.  

In a matter of minutes, Clay had managed to pull the seat up from her leg.  Misty attempted to stand, but only fell back down to the floor.  He had to carry her out.  Lava began to pour in through the front of the bus, and since it was shaking, Clay found it hard to run for the emergency exit at the back of the bus.  Finally being able to look out a window that wasn't covered in ash or lava, they were able to make out that the bus was indeed sliding down to the base of the volcano, slowly, but surely.  In seconds, they reached the ground and he hopped out of the exit.  Lava.  Fire.  Gas.

Clay ran as fast and as far as he could while holding the frightened girl on his back from the bus.  It was bound to-

…-blow up.  

The explosion caused the ground to shake beneath them and he collapsed into the dirt.  Small fragments of lava glittered the air and bus metal went flying everywhere.  He was only thankful that it hadn't blown up earlier.  Misty was able to sit up, holding together a long, bloody scrape on her arm with her left hand.  "Are you okay?"  she asked.

She noticed the bloody gash in the back of the man's head and gasped.  Is he dead??  "Are you okay?!"

The man groaned a little, breathing in a little dirt.  "Yeah."

She sighed in relief.  Taking in her surroundings, the relief bubbled into a more previous feeling of worry.  "Where are we?"  

"No!  You can't eat the pink ones!"  

Alarmed, Clay tossed them to the ground, "Why??"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, even though her actions remained invisible to the back of his head.  "You obviously have no outdoors skills."  

"And you do?"  

"For your information, I've been an outdoorswoman for nearly three years.  But just because you're an indoors-type of person, it's no excuse that you don't know the difference between the pink and the red berries."

He waited a while to ask.  He sweatdropped.  "What is the difference?"

"Oh."  Misty would've face-faulted if she could walk and wasn't being carried around.  "I can't believe you're almost as dense as Ash is."

"Who's Ash?"

"He's…  it doesn't matter who he is.  The point is, is that you should know the difference between ripe berries and.. um.. un-ripe berries."

"So the pink are the ripe ones and the red are un-ripe?"

"No!  Oh, give me a break…"

"I can't believe you brought a gun…"  Misty said nervously, digging through his open pack with her left hand. 

Her right arm was cut pretty badly and her right leg was useless as well.  The two of them had managed to wrap the cut with some banana leaves and weeds to tie it.  It wasn't the best, but it worked.  Misty smiled and pulled out a bag of marshmallows.  "You weren't _planning to camp out were you?"_

"Huh,"  Clay looked up from his hand-made fishing pole with a questioning look.  "Well, actually, I was.  I was trying to get to Guatemalio before the storms, but I guess I'm a little late, huh?"

"Here's your first aid kit."  Misty announced happily pulling out a white box with red writing, "Alright, Clay, you need to help me, now, please."

Clay sighed and set the long bamboo stick onto the ground near a tree.  He carefully held out her arm and removed the 'bandage', peeling away a thick layer of blood from the pain in her arm.  She winced and looked away.  He clicked open the box and removed a dark brown bottle, then he squeezed a little portion of the liquid into the wound making Misty hiss at the tingly pain.  It lasted for a little while until he wrapped a small amount of gauze around her forearm and the cut and fastened the ends with the little, metal butterfly clips.  Misty smiled at the somewhat clean sensation that handed pain much more than a couple of tree leaves and weeds.  Clay glanced nervously at her right leg.  "I don't know what to do there.  Maybe after a while, the feeling will return or-"

"No, I don't think so,"  Misty said sullenly, "It sort of looks like the aftereffects of frostbite, and people with frostbite… need it cut off."

Clay stared at her disbelievingly, "I'm not cutting off your leg, Misty."

"I'm not asking you to!  But I'm just saying that my leg is probably dead- the muscle, the tissue, the skin… everything."

"Well, when was the last time you tried to stand?"

"I don't know.  Maybe an hour ago."

"Try again, then.  I mean, who knows.  You might be the victim of a miracle."

Misty chuckled sadly, "Well… with my luck, I doubt it."

Clay smiled.  "Come on, just try.  You never know!"

Misty screeched as he pulled her up to her feet in one swift movement.  She inhaled sharply and expected to fall right back onto the ground and making her bruises only worse.  After a shaky moment of concentration and attempted balance, she fell.  Her one foot with feeling in it slipped forward, causing her to stumble, and eventually fall backwards, into Clay.

"Ow."

"You took the word right out of my mouth."  Clay said.

After he helped her back up, he held her to stand while gripping her shoulders.  "Now, can you walk, or can't you?"  He said to her face with a small, yet hopeful smile.

"I cannot walk."  She said dimly.

"Well, I don't want to carry you for another five miles until we get to the next town.  Now, try again."

Misty's glare fell to the ground- the ground of which she will eventually fall onto yet again at her feeble attempt to walk with a dead leg.  Clay wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling again and maybe even making her condition worse than it already is.  She lightly blushed at the all-too-kind gesture and it reminded her of Ash the last time she fell on her ankle and couldn't run through the rain without his support.  'Maybe if he was here,' she thought, 'I could walk right.'

The sudden odd feeling of the empty-ness around her waist made her gasp and she suddenly heard Clay laughing triumphantly a few feet behind her.

A few feet?  And yet she wasn't on the ground in the dirt?

As if the ground were to be listening to her thoughts, gravity pulled the rest of her to the ground and she yelped as she hit the ground.  Her hand rested on her right leg and brushed it tenderly, feeling a lot of pain probing through her bad leg.  "I can't believe you let go!"

"You were walking."

"I know I was walking!"  She growled.  'Oh my gosh, my leg…  it hurts.  It hurts!'  Misty grinned.  "Clay, my leg hurts!  It's so painful, too!!  Ha ha!"

Clay watched her smile at the pain and winced at the sight of this insanity.  "Misty, are you feeling alright?"

"No, this is the best pain I've ever felt in my life!"

"Misty,"  Clay began, "Maybe we should get you out of the sun for a second."

"Don't you get it, Clay?  I'm not supposed to have feeling in this leg!  But it hurts so much!"

"Ah!"  He grinned at the confession, "I guess it's healing then.  Well, that's good to hear."

"What do you think the stars are made of?"

The topless tent of theirs lay on the skin of the beachside by an ocean.  Clay wasn't too sure about the idea of lacking a roof over his head, but Misty insisted that the stars above an ocean are the prettiest and he figured that if the stars were visible, why worry?  

Clay turned his attention to Misty's inquiry.  "Gas?"

She shrugged, deciding whether the answer was worth her own.  "Well, maybe scientifically, they are.  But a friend of mine told me that the stars symbolize friendship and love.  He said that everyone has a star and the closest to yours would be your soul mate or at least your best friend."

"How do you know which star is yours?"  He asked, finding her answer much more interesting.

"Well, first, you close your eyes and when you open them, the first star that is most beautiful to you and the one that you feel 'closest to' is supposed to be yours."

"Okay.."  He closed his eyes briefly and slowly opened them.  "There.  The fourth star from the North Star."

A slow silence ate at the atmosphere as if it were a surprise to Clay.  Misty turned silent for a second, and he could see her look away from him.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing.  Mine's the fifth star from the North Star.  I-It's the one right next to yours."

--

"Well…  So, I guess-"

He was interrupted, not by words, but by Misty standing silently and walking out of the tent of overly large leaves.  She stepped into the soft beach sand and made her way slowly to the ocean's water.

The salty, warm breeze skimming from the surface of the deep blue swept her loose hair into tangles behind her neck.  From a black volcanic rock, a gentle spray of water eventually ended up dripping down her knees.  She looked up to the fourth star again and sighed.

In the ocean breeze, she could faintly hear her name being called all around her.  She felt the sand sweeping up around her feet and the misty breezes surround her.  She looked down and saw that the soft sand was circling her ankles and soon, the rest of her.  And her questions were all answered at once, when an ebony feather fluttered onto her shoulder.  

The sand settled, the ocean sprats rested, but her name on the wind continued to beckon her.  It was soft, almost nothing, but everything altogether.  

Could this have been the place in which he died?

No!  

Misty fell to her knees.  She could never look into another ocean ever again without remembering his death.  Could she never love the ocean again?  'Not while he's gone,'  she thought, 'Not while I'm without Ash."

The disturbed feather slid from her shoulder and into the hands ready to cup her face- the hands that needed her hide her tears from her own conscience.  And from the ocean.  And from Ash.  

Her name, mistaken for riding on the wind, now echoed from the huge ocean and all its water and contents.  The water was screaming her name and yet she must ignore it for the rest of her life.  Even so, there were no one to blame but herself.  And why blame herself?  Well, she didn't know, that's why she blames herself.

"This… is where he.. died."  She whispered sadly.  "It doesn't matter which beach.  It's still the ocean."

"Misty?"

She shook with surprised and stumbled as she tried to stand, covered from head to toe with embarrassment.  "What."

"What's wrong?  Why are you crying?"

She spun away from him and continued to face the ocean.  "It's none of your business."  She heard him sigh in retreat and she heard sinking footsteps leading away from her.  "It's because--  You picked his star!"  She confessed.

He turned around with the utmost confused expression on his face.  "What do you mean, 'picked his star'?"

"You…  Y-you stole Ash's star!  B-but.."  Misty's could feel the warmth clouding behind her eyes and the painful tears drip down her cheeks as her vision of his sympathetic expression became flooded and watered.

"Is that what this is all about?  Ash?  Is that why you're always so quiet?  Well, guess what, Misty, I have no idea who this guy is!  You'd never tell me when I ask!"

"Well, I'll tell you who he is!  He used to be my best friend and he killed himself and now, he won't leave me alone, and I have to find him, and that's why I'm here, and that's why I have to keep it secret."  

"You have to find him?  How do you find someone who's dead, Misty??  How do you expect to find him if he's a corpse?"

Misty turned her posture to the water- the cool, crystal-clear, gentle ocean that had continued to whisper her name.  She faced him once more before she began backing away, slowly into the ocean behind her, feeling the cold water lap at her sneakers.  His moonlit expression turned to worry and she somewhat smirked sadly to him.  "Just watch me."

--


	7. chapter 7

"Misty,"  Clay sighed, "Maybe you're just tired.. I'm tired, too.  Let's- go to sleep—and um, maybe tomorrow we can find a way out of here."

"You don't know how important he was to me!  How important he is to me!  You don't know how it feels to lose the one you love for so long!"

"I do, too!"

And there was silence.  All that was left were the soft sounds of the ocean, the breeze through the chattering banana leaves from a distance, and Misty's confused and sorrowful sniffles.  "I loved him… so… much…"  she said quietly, "Maybe I should just… -die along with him."

"No, Misty!  You don't know what you're talking about."

For once, she looked to him interested, "How so?"

"Your life isn't just about Ash.  Yes, so maybe you loved him, but just because he disappeared, it doesn't mean that you should, too.  In fact, it would be a really foolish thing to do- to kill yourself just because you miss him.  I lost someone before, but I've learned to-"

The rest of his words were drowned out from Misty and she looked away from him.  Her life _was all about Ash.  Anything else wasn't worth living for at all, really.  She had no more purpose in this world anymore- now that Ash is gone.  How could have fate dealt her such a cruel and unfair hand in life?  How could Clay say that?  Ash meant _everything_ to her, even in death; she can't let him go.  _

"You just don't understand,"  Misty said, looking up at him, "I have no life without him."

"Of course you do, you are living life without him right now-"

"-I still feel dead inside…"  Maybe she did die.  Maybe the Misty that the world misses to this day has died a year ago.  Ever since his empty funeral, her life had been different- she's been dead.  "I am dead."

"What are you talking about?"  Clay asked, still only a few feet away, "You're not dead."

"You wouldn't know, Clay.  I used to be so happy, but now… I'm dead inside; I've totally died along with Ash, don't you get it?  I'm nothing without him."

Something in the moonlight changed.  A cloud passed over it, blocking most of their light source.  The sea raged mercilessly in the cool, salty air- wave after mighty wave crashing onto the shore behind Misty.  It suddenly turned darker and louder.  The moonlight broke through the silver-lined cloud and shone brightly upon the glittering beach sand, witnessing the strange silence between the  two humans on the shore.  The breeze picked up.  Misty looked to the almost-full moon who's beauty had dimmed due to the small pool of light red.  Blood on the moon.  Whispering words of other voices rang through her head.

'I know what you mean, Misty.  I've lost someone before.'

'So, you've decided now, have you? Then, it is settled.'

'Do you remember that guy I was writing that spell for?  Ash was that guy.'

'Then, do what you must, Misty.  Just don't get hurt.'

'I can't believe you let go!'

'Misty, I have no idea who this guy is!'

'He just won't return to his body!'

'I can't believe you're almost as dense as Ash is.'

'Oh my god, are you alive?'

'You weren't _planning_ to camp out were you?'

'-trying to get to Guatemalio…'

'Maybe it was your own blood…'

Suddenly, the wind stopped.  The waves slept.  Misty couldn't breathe because the truth was revealing-

"Jahzara did save me."  Clay said softly with the oh, so familiar grin that made her heart jump.

Misty couldn't speak- she didn't know what to say.  She was in the right place.  Despite that the right place was somewhere stranded somewhere with some of the ocean.  "She opened her mouth to say something when he finished quickly- "And I'm glad you remembered my star- fifth… from the uh.. North Star."

Her eyes reddened and watered and tears showered her cheeks.  "I can't believe it," she whispered with a small smile on her lips.  "You're…"

He nodded and smiled a somewhat egotistical smirk.  "It's about time."

The soft tone in his voice led her to believe that what he spoke was of the truth.  That she had found him.

Finally, her spirit lifted tremendously.  She felt alive again, and it was something she hadn't felt… in such a long time.  Her life had finally found meaning and it- or he- was standing but a little ways away (count inches, only).  She felt the natural drive to embrace it, to savor the feeling of life and light, to live again like life was before the dark sadness of her past.  It all came down to this, and she was overjoyed that it finally found the chance expose itself.  "Finally…"  She whispered happily and embraced her new life.

"I have something for you."  He said, and placed the gift into her hand.

Curiously, she peered at the fluffy grey feather in her palm.  "Grey?"

"Black represents discontentment, invisibility.  Grey is transformation and unity.  It even represents protection.  Jahzara said the giving of this gift to you would seal the spell."  He closed her fingers around the present.

"So, she knew about the black feathers."  Misty glared into space.  "She knew everything!"

"Can I kiss you now?"

_Dear Journal,_

_I don't know why Jahzara never told me about Clay.  She knew it all along.  She was the one to raise his spirit from it's resting peace to disturb me.  She brought me to her, using him,  just for my permission for her to bring him back to life.  But who is she?  And why did she go through all that trouble for me?_

_He doesn't know her.  I've never met her before.  Maybe she wasn't really a witch at all…  maybe she was an angel- my guardian angel.  Maybe that could explain why she went through so much trouble to make me happy again; to make me feel alive once more.  I wasn't kidding when I said that I would kill myself.  I would have.  Ash means everything to me, including my whole being.  If he ever left me, well, I won't say that I wouldn't know what to do._

_All I really know, now, is that Ash is here, and that he is with me.  And that's all that really matters.  _

"Hey, Misty."

Misty turned in her seat to face behind her- the tanned, brown-haired version of Ash whom was sitting on her bed holding and staring at a certain picture frame that was supposed to be settled nicely on the table beside her bed.  He peered at the young boy in the photo, "This picture is awfully dusty… except for this, "  He grinned, "incredibly hot-looking young man's face."  

Misty glared at him questionably. "What are you talking about?"

He flipped the picture around and showed her the inch-worth of dust that coated the frame's glass, everywhere but on Ash's face.  He smudged away the dust, clearing the glass enough so it showed her own image, as well as his.  "You know, you really should look in a mirror more often if you think that you're that ugly to put yourself out of the picture."

_And, I have no idea why Jahzara thought that the original Ash looked like this… I guess he kind of resembles his former self, but he looks more like a brother to Ash than that of the real deal.  I know that she tried her best to preserve his image, but, to be honest, she really didn't pull the best job.  _

Misty smiled,

_But he doesn't seem to care.  I guess it will take a bit of time to adjust to his new looks, but as long as Ash is Ash, I'm sure that loving him any more than I used to won't be a problem.  _

"Alright, put that picture down, before you break it."

Ash, recently known as Clay, smirked and set it down.  "I'm surprised that the glass didn't wear off after how many times you've kissed it." Misty blushed and dropped her pen in the center of her open journal on her desk.  "Let's see, you've kissed the glass frame at least five or six times a week, so that would make nearly four hundred…  Jeez, and not a smudge or any—"

Muffled, he stopped talking when she had jumped on the bed and kissed him square on the lips.  Pulling away, she said, "Let's see if we can get your lips to wear off.  Maybe then, you won't have such a big mouth."

The End.

"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."

- Albert Einstein


End file.
